


Child of the universe

by cityinagarden



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Oneshot, just a lil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cityinagarden/pseuds/cityinagarden
Summary: Patrick sits above the city lights and thinks.Pete is always there for him.Title taken from The Last Of The Real Ones by Fall Out Boy.





	Child of the universe

"Are you happy?"

 

Patrick doesn't know how to answer this question.

 _Sure_ , he's happy. Happy in the sense of life. He has amazing friends, a musical gift, a good position in life. He finds happiness in the little things, like record stores or cups of coffee. He adores his pomeranian, Penny. He has everything he could ever want or need.

But he's never felt quite connected to himself.

 

Pete understands. Of course he does. Pete understands when Patrick curls up into his shoulder and tells him that his body feels more static than flesh. Pete understands when Patrick goes out to see the sky at fuck-knows-o-clock.

And now, sitting beside Patrick on the rock-ledge jutting out from the face of their hill, the hill overlooking their town, Pete gets it now, too. He gets it when Patrick says that he feels like he's untethered in his own body. He understands that Patrick feels strangely hollow in a way more poetic than depressing.

Is that even possible?

 

Patrick does a lot of quiet reflection when he feels so pleasantly unoccupied. Legs dangling off the edge of the ledge, heels kicking at the rock behind idly.

Patrick stares at the city lights below him.

He thinks. He thinks, as he always does.

It's kind of hard. His body feels like its made of clouds, his thoughts just abstract formations in the sky of his conscience.

He feels purple. Purple and sparkly, like a nebula in space.

 

"Are you happy?"

Patrick doesn't understand the question - not really, not at first anyway. He blinks, once, twice. He asks Pete what he means.

"You know exactly what I mean," comes Pete's soft reply. and Patrick blinks.  _Aren't I doing enough self reflection already?_

Patrick tilts his head, making strands of hair shift over his skin. He taps his fingers onto the rock surface below him as he thinks. It keeps him tethered.

Pete keeps him tethered, too. Pete keeps him tethered, and Patrick clings onto his arm as though without him he'd get blown out into space.

 

_Space._

Patrick feels like he has space dust in his veins, making him cloudy-headed, lifting him up, making him toss and turn in the air and never feeling quite as connected to the earth as he should be.

 

But that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Patrick knows his thoughts exist on another altitude. It's hard to reach back down to earth sometimes, but never impossible.

He runs his hands hands over the surface of the rock again.

_Happy._

 

Patrick thinks of happy.

He thinks of his guitar. His parents. His friends and family. His dog. His music collection. The sound of the breeze in the fall.

He thinks of Pete.

Pete, his ground control, his tether back to the planet. Pete, who comes along with him on drives for hours in the night when Patrick feels like he's barely himself. Pete, his optimistic black hole in a night sky full of questions.

 

Before he actively realises it, Patrick is smiling, thinking about everything there for him on the earth.

Pete studies him, studies the boy wrapped up in a little knit sweater and high top shoes. His space boy.

He knows he doesn't have to ask the question again. He knows he doesn't even need Patrick to say his answer - he sees the look in his star-scattered eyes, and he knows.

 

Patrick answers anyway. Because he knows exactly how he feels.

"Yes, I'm happy."

**Author's Note:**

> I can't call it a ventfic cause it isn't angsty, but I just wanted to explain how I feel sometimes. And what better way than through writing?  
> Ten points to whatever house you belong to for every song reference you got ;)


End file.
